The past year in the U.S. represented an incredible uptick in bans on books. In 2020, the nation saw just 156 book challenges, but in 2021 that number soared to 729 challenges to books. From these ongoing challenges in school districts around the nation, to the physical attack on Salman Rushdie just a few weeks ago, the fundamental principle of an author being able to tell the story he or she desires, addressing topics concerning identity or race, and questioning societal norms continues to come under fire. All of this contention underscores the fact ideas remain the most powerful force on the planet. True freedom depends upon defending the freedom to express a viewpoint or perspective, regardless if one agrees with the perspective or not. If the right to a free press and freedom of expression means anything, it must extend to the views of your ideological or political opponent. While we’ve seen many challenges to books recently, I have been encouraged by one account out of a New York middle school.
During the 2020 school year, an eighth-grade class was reading a novel set on a Native American reservation, written from the perspective of a Native American teenage boy and his dealings with the largely white high school he attended. In the story, one of the white teens calls the Native American teen a racial slur. This class was taught by a one-year substitute, who had explained the purpose and inclusion of upsetting words and themes before the class began reading the book, but not on the specific day the upsetting portion was read.
In class, a student was upset to hear the slur and explained as much to their parents, after which the student and parents complained to the school. The same evening, an administrator sent out an email to the parents of all the eighth-graders stating the teaching of the book was “put on pause”. This administrator had not read the book personally and did not consult with the assigning teacher as to why the book had been assigned. The administrator simply heard there was a complaint, and responded by sending out an apology and notification the school would no longer be teaching that text. Instead of seeking out the purpose for reading the book, this administrator shut down the discussion around it, which deprived the teachers and students any context for the story at all. Of course, such a knee-jerk reaction did not solve anything. Had the class been allowed to continue reading the book, they would have seen the character’s journey of growth after uttering the insult. In stopping immediately after the outburst, students were deprived of seeing the character see his own mistake, and grow from it.
Thankfully, the story doesn’t end there. Students in this eight-grade class, including the one who made the initial complaint, formed a group called Students for Free Speech, met bi-weekly, and chose to finish reading the book. Then, they wrote a letter to the teachers and administration expressing their disappointment that the book was “paused” because, as they learned, the book itself condemns the slur. They pointed out how character grows over the course of the story; that what started as an unfortunate moment became a lesson for characters involved in the story. These students reminded the adults their job as educators was to present the world in an educational manner, and they should be exposed to challenging and potentially offensive material because it helps the students deal with these unfamiliar and upsetting issues in a safe and thoughtful manner. Isn’t it fascinating to see these young teenagers seem to grasp the purpose of education better than many of the professionals trusted with providing them with that education?
What do we teach students by saying the most important consideration in an educational setting is “being comfortable” with every word presented? Undoubtedly, it is important for classrooms to be places students think about positively and feel accepted in. It is also important they are learning about the world while in the classroom, though. Learning is work, after all, and work can make us uncomfortable from time to time, but there is a purpose to that temporary discomfort. Being stretched intellectually is uncomfortable for a time, but yields rewards. We do a disservice to students – and learners of all ages – when we choose to dilute or abandon a discussion in the interest of never being “uncomfortable”.
The point of reading complex and thorny texts in a school setting is that setting is a safe place in which to discuss those topics. If the purpose of education is to teach students how to think well, and to provide a framework for encountering new perspectives or ideas, then exposing the students to new perspectives must be a part of that process. In the context of learning, where a title has been chosen as a reference point on racism, human rights, and personal growth, in addition to literary merit, encountering new perspectives and addressing the tension suspended between those perspectives is very much the purpose. The beauty of fiction is being able to encounter such tension in a respectful, non-combative place and manner. Indeed, that is the beauty of reading.
How does one teach about racism or racial tension without using potentially upsetting examples of racist behavior? This is essentially what both sides of this argument are fighting against; one group moves to ban To Kill A Mockingbird and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn for “depicting racist attitudes,” while their opponents object to teaching Civil War and Reconstruction history in a way which criticizes the attitudes of many white Southerners from the time. It’s nonsensical. History is full of terrible mistakes, and it’s our responsibility to learn from those mistakes and not repeat them. “If you haven’t read hundreds of books,” General James Mattis wrote, “you are functionally illiterate, and you will be incompetent, because your personal experiences alone aren’t broad enough to sustain you.” At the end of the day, reading is preparation for life.
Banning books is a short term, knee-jerk reaction based in fear. It is an act of desperation and a tactic of authoritarian regimes. The people moving to ban books fear losing the influence they have – or hope to have – on their audience. The solution to challenging ideas or question is not running from them, but examining those ideas and finding the most effective pieces and prepare for the uncomfortable realities of life.
The role of education is to teach students how to think, not what to think. Thinking well requires reading, and reading unfamiliar ideas. Teaching how to examine and evaluate arguments produces students capable of dealing with complex topics and ideas without being overwhelmed. One result of such thinking is the realization that no conversation is inherently dangerous, but rather that some ideas are more accurate and useful than others. Our ability to succeed in these conversations depends on – not shouting down our opponents – but our ability to dismantle weaker arguments and use facts to build more accurate and effective perspectives on the issues at hand.
The kids are okay. Reading about those eight-graders made me so proud and encouraged to hear the students have a better understanding of the purpose of education than many adults trusted with making decisions. They demonstrated beautifully how reading expands the mind, while fear only restricts. Perhaps this Banned Books Week, we let the kids teach us something.
Photo by Sai Abhinivesh Burla on Unsplash
